


Nocturne

by SkyLeaf



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, Doomed Relationship, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Old Age, Post-Twilight Princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27085684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyLeaf/pseuds/SkyLeaf
Summary: Time passed, dawn became dusk, and before they knew it, the day was disappearing. Nothing could change that.
Relationships: Midna/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Kudos: 9





	Nocturne

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the "Storm" prompt of Midzel Week 2020, though I will admit that the word inspired the general theme of this story more than it influenced the story itself :)

They had not given the power of time a thought. After everything they had been through, after she had watched Zelda fade away moments after she had given her another chance to save both of their realms, after they had spent years trying to rebuild what had been broken during the years where first Zant and then Ganondorf had seized power, having to work to repair both the physical scars that had been left in the realms as well as the mental pains, it seemed almost cruel for time, for something so mundane and yet so powerful to achieve what not even the years of guilt that had followed their victory had been able to.

In hindsight, Midna could see how she should have been able to tell that it would have been too good to be true for her and Zelda to simply be able to enjoy their lives, spending it in each other’s company, but sometime over the years, it seemed that she had let herself be lulled by the idea of how this might be it, that this might be the happy ending she had not allowed herself to hope for for so many years. And at first, it seemed that it could really be what had happened, that she had finally found happiness, or at least that was what she made herself believe for the first decade after they had first found each other again, content to wake up each morning to see Zelda lying next to her. It was peaceful, and in those moments, she had been able to fool herself into thinking that it would continue like that for the rest of her life.

And then the illusion had been broken in a moment, forcefully reminding her that there was more that separated them than just the barrier between their realms that they had been able to bridge with the help of the Mirror of Twilight.

Zelda had found her first grey hair.

Midna could recall the moment like it had only happened a day ago, although she could feel how it slipped further away from her with every passing day, bringing them closer to the inevitable. How would she have been able to forget it, when Zelda had stood there, in front of the mirror, laughing at something Midna had told her, the exact detail of what it had been seeming so unimportant after what had happened afterwards that Midna had not bothered to remember it, before pausing to reach up to her hair to hold the single strand of grey hair up against the light of the candle that had stood on the table next to her, already turning around to look at her with the exact same thoughts that flew through Midna’s mind in that moment written across her face?

“Midna,” she had said, and although her voice was even, controlled, Midna could tell how Zelda was using every last bit of energy to make sure that it would stay that way, the slightly distanced expression on her face as she looked between her and the hair being the same as she would put on when in the middle of a particularly draining discussion with her advisors, “I—do you think that this means that—that…?”

She could not finish the sentence and Midna could not blame her for that. In that moment all the conversations that had been between them over the years, the tone of them having grown increasingly strained each time the subject of aging would be brought up, with Midna more often than not simply wanting for Zelda to drop the issue, to think about something else so that they would not have to worry about the future when the present was so much more enjoyable, rose to the surface.

And now, as Zelda slowly walked over to sit down next to her on the bed, all thoughts of how she had just spent hours standing up so that she would not crumple her dress seemingly forgotten, Midna could not close her eyes and ignore it anymore. She could not continue to ignore how she had noted the way the people in the court seemed to age faster than her, the amount of time it took for the men and women who had once agreed to sign the draft legislations her and Zelda had formed as a way to formally strengthen the ties between their kingdoms to lose their youth being far less than what it had taken for her own advisors. Back then, Midna had been able to somewhat convince herself that what she was seeing had just been an anomaly, perhaps the woman who sat to her left, the woman she had thought had only been a few years older than Zelda when she had first met her only to look like she was several decades older than both of them by the time they had been able to fully restore both of their kingdoms, had simply had to carry a heavy burden for a long time, with the pressure of court making her seem far older than she really was. Although she had known that it could not have been the case for everyone around Zelda, Midna had somehow managed to forget about it, forcing herself not to ask Zelda or to read any of the books she knew she could find in the royal library on the subject of Hylian biology, too afraid of what answers she would find.

But it seemed that her reluctance to admit the truth would now come back to haunt her, for as she looked over at Zelda, taking in the way the silvery hair reflected the light as Zelda held it up in front of her face, Midna did not know what she could possibly say. After all, everybody was bound to age, everyone would die one day. All things considered, becoming old was a privilege that had been rare only a few years before.

But still, even as she knew all of that, knew that this was simply a part of living a peaceful life, Midna could not deny that the icy feeling of fear made her chest tighten as she cleared her throat and, putting her arm around Zelda, tried to search for something to say that would not feel as empty as she felt right then. “It is only one hair. I am sure it is nothing.”

It was the cowardly thing to do, to try to convince herself more than Zelda that everything was fine, that Midna could not feel how the joy she had found with Zelda was disappearing right in front of her, slowly moving away from her every time she felt her heart beat against her ribs, the rhythm of it becoming quicker, lessening the time they had together.

She knew that Zelda had noticed the fear in her eyes. How could she not have when she had been raised to become the queen of Hyrule, able to tell when people were lying to her? No, Midna was all too aware of how Zelda was trying to spare her feelings when she sent her a strained smile, how she made herself bury her own worries to let both of them continue to live with the illusion of how they still had time for just a little bit longer. While she knew that it was selfish of her to deny Zelda the opportunity to talk with her about all the thoughts that was no doubt whirling through her mind in that moment, she was grateful for how they did not have to face reality just yet.

“Yes,” Zelda said, slowly letting go of the hair. It fell back to rest against the rest of her brown tresses, but even as Midna knew that she was most likely imagining it, she still thought that she could see it shine brightly, a single strand of silver among the canvas of brown and red that she had spent so many mornings admiring, “yes, you are right. It was just one hair; it is nothing to worry about.” brushing Midna’s arm off her shoulder, she stood back up, only hesitating for a moment, her frantic breathing being apparent as Midna looked up at her, before she turned around and left the room, the door slamming behind her a second too late to hide how she was crying.

As she was left there, sitting on their bed, Midna knew that she should have gone after her, how she should have told her that she wanted to apologise for her reaction, giving Zelda the opportunity to share her thoughts with someone. But she couldn’t.

Right then, it was not a matter of her not wanting the fragile sense of joy to shatter—or at least that was what Midna tried to tell herself—it was a matter of her being physically unable to move, having frozen the moment she had heard Zelda lose her usual calm composure. For even though the strand of silver hair had allowed the fears she had spent years showing into the back of her mind rise to the surface, Midna was sure that she would have been able to hide it, to convince herself that it was nothing Zelda would not be able to handle, if Zelda had brushed it off with a smile. However, the way Zelda had clearly struggled against the tears, had tried her best to not let it show how the grey hair had affected her only for Midna’s incapability to talk about how they had been young, lovesick fools when they had assumed that the only thing that separated them was the difference between night and day, between light and twilight, to make it all become too much for her, had been even worse than seeing the grey hair itself. It was evidence that it was true, that she was not merely allowing the fear to grip her and to whisper lies to her. It was really happening. Zelda was becoming older while Midna would have to remain where she was, unable to grow old with her.

+++

After the discovery of the first grey hair, Midna returned to the Twilight Realm.

While that was not rare per se for her to have to bring an end to the lovely days she could spend with Zelda to go back given how she was the sole ruler of a kingdom that was still torn open, the months still passed without her truly being able to rest. At night, she would lay down in her bed, waiting for sleep to claim her and give her a moment where she would be able to not think about how Zelda had avoided her for the last days of her stay, every moment of her day becoming an endless number of meetings, journeys to the other provinces of Hyrule, and reports in a way that had never been the case before, but it had never come. For while she had finally passed out, the strain the worry had put on her body finally being enough to make her unable to stay awake, her dreams were filled with visions of how she would return to Hyrule to find that it was already too late, that she had underestimated the power of time and had allowed for Zelda to slip away from her for a second time.

But even then, the fear of allowing this, the fact that, despite how Midna would have wished that she could make her own life shorter if that was what it would take to find sprinkles of silver in her own hair, she had to admit that it would not be possible for her to achieve that, to steal what little time they had left away from them, it was not enough to make her return to Zelda and the joy she had left behind in Hyrule. She simply could not bring herself to do it; every time she had gone to stand in front of the Mirror of Twilight, trying to make herself open up the bridge between them again, her hands would shake as her breathing grew quicker, shallower.

Midna was not certain how much time she allowed to pass like that, how many years it had cost them. All she knew was that when she finally returned, walking up to the castle prepared for Zelda to welcome her in the exact same manner as Midna knew she would have done if their roles had been switched, polite but with an icy distance that would show her exactly how much she had destroyed when she had fled from her own fear, Zelda was there, welcoming her back with a kiss and not a single word about how she had abandoned her.

Perhaps Midna should have let that be the end of it, should simply have been grateful for the fact that Zelda was clearly the better and more forgiving of the two of them, but as Zelda withdrew from the embrace, smiling up at her, all Midna could think about was how there were wrinkles around her eyes that had not been there the last time she had seen Zelda.

Still, as Zelda held her close, clinging to the fabric of her dress with such strength behind the grip that, while she did not say it, Midna could still tell how it was a silent plea for her never to leave her alone like that again, to never let her fear control her and make her stay away, allowing the divide between them to grow until it had reached a point where it had almost been worse than when they had not known that the other existed, and Midna looked down at her, whispering apology after apology in between the kisses she placed on top of Zelda’s head where the single strand of silver had now become several white streaks running through her hair, she was able to focus on the fact that the wrinkles were a sign that Zelda had laughed, that despite the pain Midna had brought her and would no doubt continue to bring with her penchant for destroying those she loved the most.

It was almost enough to somewhat quell her worries, at least for the time being.

+++

And so, Midna’s world was turned upside down yet again.

It almost felt like it had happened too often, first when she had been robbed of her title and body to instead be sent to a kingdom where she could easily die if she was not careful, the only ray of hope in the middle of it all having been the princess she could at least share her despair with, then when she had been given another chance to confront Zant and Ganondorf and show them how the twilight princess would not allow anyone to threaten the kingdom she had taken an oath to protect along with the new realm she had found along the way, and when she had at last given herself permission to finally let down the façade she had tried her best to keep intact even when she had been around Zelda.

But, nevertheless, it was what happened. There was no use in attempting to deny that she knew the reason for it: the only way the council would ever have allowed her to spend so much time in Hyrule was that they all knew that Zelda did not have much time left in this realm.

It was a fact that Midna was also slowly beginning to realise that she could not keep out of her mind for much longer—not without letting it continue to rule her at least. For although Zelda did not appear that old to her, although Midna could easily have found a hundred people within the castle alone who might very well be ten years old than her, she knew that while Zelda was approaching the autumn of life, Midna was still stuck in early spring, unable to continue with her. She was still stuck with the sun and flowers when all she wanted was to be able to curl up in front of the fireplace with Zelda when the night would bring a child.

But Zelda seemed determined not to let it affect them, remaining the gentle light of her life, and if that was how Zelda wanted to approach the end, then Midna knew that she did not have any right to try to make it about herself.

However, pretending that Zelda was not becoming older, weaker, and more tired, could only get them so far.

While Midna could indeed reach up to ruffle her hair and choose to ignore how almost all of it had become silver by now, it was far more difficult for her to pretend that Zelda was not beginning to walk more slowly, the two of them often having to stop to sit down on a bench when they would stroll through the courtyard. The sensation of sitting down on the stone bench as she listened to how Zelda tried to recover her breath was so unlike how they had earlier been able to walk around for hours on end, talking about things that they were not able to share with anyone but another ruler, that Midna did not know whether the strange feeling that would bloom in her chest, becoming a little bit more intense each time it happened, was the pang of sadness that came with knowing that it would soon become winter, or if it was the joy of knowing that they at least had a few days left of autumn.

It was during one of those walks, just as the two of them had sat down to look at one of the rosebushes that seemed to be able to thrive no matter what time of the year Midna would visit Hyrule, that Zelda leant over towards her, pushing her coat back a bit to allow her to look up at Midna. “I want to visit you again,” she said, her voice sounding hoarser than Midna could remember it having ever been before, “I want to see the twilight again.”

Although she did not say it, Midna could hear the hidden meaning of her words, how Zelda feared that she might not have much time left to enjoy the beauty the Twilight Realm had become after Zant’s grip around the kingdom had finally loosened.

Part of her wanted to argue with her, wanted to say something, anything, that would make both of them believe that there was no need to hurry, that they had plenty of time and that Zelda could come to see the palace and the renovation that had just begun in the eastern part of the town later, but Midna knew that she would not be able to. It was a knowledge that came not only from how Zelda’s eyes, though they did not hold the same brilliant shine that had once seemed to be able to rival the beauty of the twilight that covered her own world, still shone with intelligence, but also from how Midna could still feel the effects of the bond that had appeared between them when Zelda had transferred part of her own soul over to her, the two of them having become so closely intertwined that even now, Midna could feel how brightly the passion Zelda still held within her heart burnt.

She had made a decision, and now, she wanted to visit the Twilight Realm one last time. Nothing would be able to stop her, and while Midna could not help but feel that agreeing to open up the mirror for her would be the same as agreeing with Zelda’s thoughts about her own mortality, she would never have been able to deny her that request.

So she nodded, stiffly, trying to keep back the tears, unwilling to let them glitter in the faint light from the sun that slowly disappeared behind the horizon when Zelda was sitting next to her. “If that is what you want, then I will do my best to ensure that the palace will be ready for your visit.”

“No.” although the word was calm, Zelda grabbed her hand so tightly that Midna could see her knuckles turn white. But it seemed that age had robbed Zelda of her strength as well, for although Midna knew that such a gesture would once have been accompanied by her playfully reminding Zelda not to injure the person she was asking for a favour, now it only caused her to have to hide a choked sob as she could barely feel any pressure, willing herself to let her sorrow wait until she would be able to process it without hurting Zelda by sending her a small smile, trying her best to maintain what felt much more like a pained grimace than a way to express joy as Zelda continued. “I want to see it _now_.”

She hated the urgency behind the words, hated how Zelda looked directly into her eyes as she leant towards her a little bit, almost like she wanted Midna to realise that there might not be a tomorrow for her.

Midna could only let out a small sigh before she answered. “As you wish.”

From the way Zelda continued to look at her until the air finally grew so cold that Midna insisted that they would have to head back inside, she knew that Zelda had hoped for her to be able to find joy in the prospect of Zelda visiting her.

Most likely, she was right. Of course she was. Perhaps it was about more than just that, the fact that Midna was simply not able to feel much more than a hollow sense of loss and fear. She knew that Zelda was not dead yet, that until the day Zelda would fall asleep for the last time, she had to make sure not to waste a second, not to let fear steal their last moments together away from them, but no matter how many times she tried to remind herself of that, as she sat in the carriage with Zelda the next day, the two of them making the journey to the Arbiter’s Grounds by carriage rather than letting the wind caress their faces as they nudged their horses into a quick gallop, flying across the fields the way they had done before, Midna could not help but feel like the horses, the opulently decorated carriage, and the coachman were only bringing Zelda closer to her grave as they slowly made the distance between the two of them and the mirror grow shorter and shorter.

Midna tried her best to hide how her reaching up to offer Zelda her hand as she stepped out onto the ground was about more than simply her seizing every chance to stay close to her that she could grasp, how she could not help but notice how Zelda stumbled slightly as they walked out into the open area that contained the Mirror of Twilight, but from the look of hesitation that flickered across Zelda’s face before she finally accepted her offer for help, Midna knew that Zelda had noticed it and simply chosen not to comment on it.

Unable to decipher whether or not the emotions that felt like they were trying their best to suffocate her stemmed from the love that not even age had been able to fade or if it was the worry that Zelda would not be able to survive the journey to Midna’s realm, the process of at once feeling like she was being torn apart and made whole again being too much for her weakened body to handle, Midna tried her best to distract herself from having to acknowledge her feelings and the reason for why Zelda was looking at her, an expression that looked too much like pity flickering across her face. It was almost like she was the one who was dying rather than Zelda. Midna did deserve that kind of sympathy when her role right then should have been to try her best to make these last few moments the best days of Zelda’s life.

With how her mind was unable to focus on the task at hand, constantly returning to Zelda, to how she did not let go of her hand for even a moment, the feeling of Zelda’s hand in hers having lost its softness several years ago, but still being every part as lovely as Midna remembered it, to how she was becoming shorter with each and every day, to how she stood so close to her that the only thing Midna wanted to do was to embrace her, to rest her chin on the top of Zelda’s head the way she had done in the past and beg for them to simply go home, to abandon the idea of Zelda seeing the twilight again to instead try to stretch her last few days into infinity, perhaps it should not have come as a surprise to her that it required multiple attempts before she was able to muster the stability to open up the portal. And yet, it did, Midna being all too aware of how Zelda was standing next to her, shivering even as the sun shone down from high up in the sky.

But in the end, the portal opened, because no matter how much Midna might want to turn around and tell Zelda that it would kill her, that she would not be able to do something she knew would shorten her life even more no matter how much Zelda might have wished to get the opportunity to see her home one last time, she would never have been able not to try her best to grant Zelda her wish. And then, the only thing Midna could do was to grip Zelda’s hand, trying her best to balance the need to make sure that she would not slip away from her, that Zelda would not disappear into nothingness, with the knowledge that Zelda’s bones were becoming brittle, unable to withstand the same amount of pressure as Zelda had seemed to be able to simply brush aside when they had first met each other.

And so, that was what she did as they stood in front of the Mirror of Twilight, allowing the magic that was far stronger than any of them to pull them into the twilight.

The moment they appeared on the other side, Midna knew what had happened.

Already before she was able to register that Zelda had gone limp, Midna barely having time to catch her before she would have hit the ground, she could feel a part of her shattering inside her chest, the warmth and comfort that the reflection of Zelda’s soul had been able to give her for so many years fading, the sensation of how she was no longer able to sense how Zelda was feeling for a single, horrible second making her think that perhaps the seasons had changed. But as she dared to look down at Zelda, at once afraid of how she might find that Zelda was looking as lifeless as when she and Link had found her inside the throne room of Hyrule Castle and desperate for proof that she was still there with her, Midna could see how the slight movement of her chest and the way Zelda’s eyes still moved slightly behind the closed eyelids allowed the tiny hope in her heart to burn a bit brighter once more, made the whisper in her chest appear again, telling her that it was not too late yet. She still had time.

In the end, Midna gave in to her fear. So although she knew that if she had been awake, Zelda would have asked her to let her stay in the Twilight Realm, would have insisted that she would be fine after she had got the chance to sleep for a few hours, Midna turned around and let the Mirror of Twilight take them back to Hyrule.

As she saw how a bit of colour returned to Zelda’s pale cheeks the moment the sunlight that Midna had come to treasure deeply over the years fell on her face again, Midna would never have been able to say that she regretted the choice without lying.

All but running back to the carriage, the only thing that kept her from sprinting was how she did not dare to endanger Zelda.

“Take her back to the castle immediately!” Midna had wanted for it to be an order, not leaving any room for the coachman to object or to remind her that she was not the ruler of this world, but as she slowly placed Zelda on the soft seats inside the carriage, careful to support her head, she heard how her voice broke halfway through the sentence, betraying her and letting the man know exactly how close she was to bursting into tears.

Thankfully, it seemed that his loyalty towards Zelda far outweighed any concerns he might have had with taking orders from her, for Midna only barely had time to sit down herself, reaching out to place her arms around Zelda to keep her from falling to the floor, before the carriage began to move, letting the world outside pass by in a blur that Midna was not entirely sure had been caused by the desperation she could feel echo through the ground around her as the horses hurried back towards the castle so quickly that it would not have surprised her if they had been able to feel how their queen was balancing on the hair-thin boundary between life and death or if it was simply a sign that, without Zelda, Midna was already feeling her world fall apart in front of her.

They were met by what seemed to Midna to be hundreds of people hurrying towards them, all of them reaching out to help Zelda. In reality, it had most likely been a matter of perhaps five maids and a healer, but as someone took her hand, Midna only realising that it had been to help her, the maid having seemingly caught sight of how she was shaking in the warm air, when she had already stepped out of the carriage, hurrying past the woman to get to Zelda, it felt like they were bringing Zelda further and further away from her as they brought her back into the castle, someone coming out to her to place a blanket around her shoulders.

It was in that moment that Midna finally sat down on the ground to cry. Although it had been her choice, her fault that Zelda was now here, slowly stirring as the healer carried her into the castle, the look she sent towards Midna just as the doors closed behind her being one of betrayal, rather than waking up with her in the Twilight Realm as she had wished to do, Midna still felt powerless to do anything other than simply sit there and cry, not even being able to muster the strength to stand up, to head back inside to find Zelda, to shove the hand that was patting her on the shoulder away.

Time and the way it would mercilessly come for everyone was horrible. It was a truth that she should perhaps have realised before that moment, something that should have been apparent to her from the very first time she had had to say goodbye to someone dear to her, but until she had learnt that the Light Realm was more than just blinding, white-hot light, at least she had been able to grow old alongside those around her. But this, having to watch as Zelda had grown weaker and more tired in what to Midna had only marked the beginning of her reign, having to answer questions and quell the worries about how she did not have an heiress while Midna still had several decades to figure out the answers to those questions, it made it all feel meaningless and empty as she sat there, all too aware of how Zelda, back when she had been able to leave the castle without having to rely on anyone’s help, would have come down to greet her, trying her best to make sure that she would not have to be accompanied by anyone to give them that moment of privacy where she would be able to pull her to her feet to, with a small smile, remind her that there were plenty of couches within the castle, that she did not have to sit here on the ground like she had been turned away at the door.

But in the end, no matter how many times Midna tried to close her eyes, tried to picture how it was only a matter of time before Zelda would come running outside to her, silver hair cascading down her back as it would be revealed that the fatigue and weakness had only been the result of a strange sickness that no one had been able to identify until that moment, the only one she saw when she would look around her was the maid who seemed to refuse even entertaining the idea of leaving her side.

She knew that her presence along with the kind expression on her face, the way the pity was evident in her eyes, was most likely a testament to her devotion to Zelda, to a dying woman, but right in that moment, Midna could not have cared less for her reasons for staying. All that mattered was the fact that she was at the very least able to focus on the sensation of someone trying to console her, trying to think of that rather than how she already knew that there was nothing she could do.

She stayed out there for longer than she would ever have admitted to anyone afterwards. As she felt her heartbeat mark the passage of time, Midna slowly became aware of how even her own thoughts seemed to mirror the cycle that would soon come to an end for Zelda, how she at first allowed herself a moment to hope that there might be a way to, if not reverse, then at least delay the inevitable, before finding herself yearning for the days where the only person she had known in this realm had been Link, the times where she had been able to make both herself and the world around her believe that she only cared about the future of her own kingdom. It all seemed so far away, and she forced herself not to dwell on the thoughts of their adventures as the realisation that Link was only a few years younger than Zelda struck her, the implications of that, of what it would mean for her old friend echoed through her mind.

But, finally, the need to at least be able to see Zelda one last time became so strong that not even the allure of losing herself to her memories was enough to keep her from sprinting through the hallways, ignoring how the guards stepped towards her, the expressions on their faces telling her how they had been about to stop her, to hinder her from seeing the queen, until they finally recognised her, as she made her way up to the chambers she had almost come to know better than her own palace in the years that had passed since the two of them had succeeded in freeing their worlds from the influence of Ganondorf.

Zelda lay in her bed.

Although Midna had thought that she had prepared herself for the sight that would meet her as she opened the door to the room where Zelda had once tried to explain her theories about the nature of the barrier between their two worlds to her, the place where they had spent hours trying to figure out if there was a way for them to widen the gap that the Mirror of Twilight represented, to strengthen the ties between them, as she stepped over the threshold and saw how the healer was kneeling next to the bed, Zelda’s hand seeming awfully pale and thin as he whispered something to her, the way he closed his eyes letting Midna know that it was a prayer, a final plea for the goddesses to watch over her, Midna knew that no amounts of pretending that she had been able to come to terms with what was in the end an unavoidable truth of life, that it would have to end someday, would ever have been enough to allow her to find the peace and the acceptance that Zelda needed now.

However, even now, even as everyone could see that she was lying on her deathbed, Zelda remained strong, sending a short glance in Midna’s direction before whispering something to the healer.

From her position right next to the door, even if she could not make out the individual words, Midna could still follow the conversation, how the healer tried his best to convince Zelda not to send him away, not to allow death to claim her just yet, only to be met with the same kind of stubborn determination that had once been enough to make Zelda give up her magic to give Midna another chance.

The eerie similarity, the way Midna could not help but feel that the sight of the healer letting go of Zelda’s hand, how he sent her a glare as he left the room, Zelda gripping her hand like Midna was the only thing keeping her from disappearing, sent shivers down her back, and as she bit her lip, keeping back the tears and the pleas for Zelda not to leave her, Midna could taste blood.

In the end, Zelda was the first of them to break the silence, to extend her hand towards her just as she had done all those years ago even when all she had been met with were bitter accusations.

“I was beginning to fear that I would not be able to see you again,” she whispered, but where Midna knew that she would once have found the light of the world around them within her eyes, Zelda now seemed tired, her gaze becoming distant for a moment before she would blink and try to redirect her attention back to Midna again.

“I—” Midna heard how the sob consumed the rest of the sentence, made her unable to continue.

What could she say? How would she be able to apologise for how her instinct told her to leave, to try to shield herself from the pain that was already enough to overwhelm her, that there was a voice telling her that the guilt of leaving Zelda alone would be light as a feather when compared to having to feel the full extent of the loss of the person who had once been the only reason she had been able to continue? How would she be able to find the words within what little time they had left with one another to try to put her feelings into words, to say anything that would be able to explain why she had wasted so much time, why Midna had so often left Zelda alone for years at a time?

The questions towered up in front of her, Midna finding herself unable to answer even a single one of them.

But as she looked down at Zelda and saw how there was not a trace of bitterness to find in her eyes, Midna knew that, right then, none of that mattered to her. This was not about hurried apologies and trying to imagine how their lives could have been different now if Midna had only been able to face her fears, to stay by Zelda’s side in the past.

No, now it was about the present, and so, Midna forced herself not to think about what would come later, instead reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from Zelda’s face, feeling how the tresses were as soft as the snow they mirrored with their white colour.

“I love you.”

For a moment, Midna caught a glimpse of the princess she had first met inside the tower that had been both her home and prison when Zant had taken over the kingdom. But, of course, it disappeared, instead being replaced with the softness that seemed to have taken the position the anger and fury had once held within their lives.

“And I love you.”

It was short, Zelda’s voice barely more than a whisper, but although those words had been uttered countless times before, hidden in a kiss when she would wake up to see how Zelda almost seemed to glow in the soft light of dawn, whispered when Zelda would somehow find the time to embrace her while hurrying from one meeting to another, given along with a flower when they would take in the sight of the thousands of flowers that would fill the courtyard in spring, the warmth that accompanied them as a cold breeze swept through the room was still almost more than Midna could handle.

Despite how she had wished to stay strong, to remain stoic and calm to give Zelda the chance to say goodbye, in that moment, all Midna could do was to fall to the floor and cry. Above her, she could hear how Zelda tried to speak, the words hoarse and unfinished as she searched for her hand. However, where Zelda would once have pulled her up, have moved to invite Midna to lie down next to her, she was now only a shadow of her former self, unable to do anything but to fumble for her hand and ultimately never managing to do more than to pat her shoulder while whispering broken words.

Midna did not know how long she sat there for. All she knew was that by the time she had found the strength to stand up, the sun had set. The moon bathed Zelda in a cold glow as she looked down at her, and no matter how much Midna tried to convince herself that the lack of light in Zelda’s eyes was due to the moonlight, she could feel how something broke inside of her.

That was how they found her when the servants returned to the room.

From the way they did not say anything, a maid simply coming over to escort her out of the room, the chambers she had shared with Zelda for so long, to instead walk alongside her as they passed through the dark and desolate hallways of the castle, leaving her in one of the guests room, Midna knew that they had been aware of just what would happen. But even then, she could not resent them. Part of her wanted to, of course she did. After all, they had allowed her to be there; no one had stopped her, said something, _done_ something, anything at all, to spare her from having to see the exact moment when Zelda had no longer been able to recognise her, but she simply could not find the energy to do even that. They had done what they had thought would be best for everyone. Midna knew that. Even if she had not been allowed inside the room, it would have done little to help lessen the hollow feeling inside of her.

But although the knowledge of that should perhaps have been able to warm her a little, keeping the coldness around her at bay, the truth was that without that, without having the anger and being able to define a specific person as the one responsible for it all, Midna had nothing left to hold onto. With Zelda gone, and Link away, there was no one to talk to.

Of course, she would have to return to her kingdom. Looking down at her hand and seeing that, unlike how Zelda’s had been old and frail, she still looked as young as she had been when they had first met each other in person, Midna knew that, sooner or later, she would have to return home. There were people who depended on her, and with how much time she had spent in Hyrule, she had already shown herself to be a poor ruler. She would have to continue for them.

Slowly, Midna pushed herself off the floor.

Yes, that was what she would have to do. In the other end of the castle, they were surely already preparing for Zelda’s funeral, making sure that they would give her one last show of respect, and although she knew that it would be expected of her to be present—not only to speak of her memories of her other half, but as the queen of the Twilight Realm as well—Midna would die long before she would stand there again, powerless to do anything as Zelda faded away in front of her.

No, before the moment where a maid would no doubt be sent to ensure that their royal guest—for that was all Midna was now, a guest—was comfortable, Midna would already be far away from the castle, removing herself from the collective memory of Hyrule and hoping that she, with all her years, would be able to forget as quickly as those she left behind.

Or at least that was what Midna tried to tell herself to stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she went over to the bed. Water would only make what she had to do become more complicated. A moment later, Midna realised that she had been wrong about that as well. Despite her worries, she was able to pull the sheets off the bed and to slowly begin to rip the fabric apart.

The process was more time-consuming than what she had expected, and although she tried her best to convince herself that it was due to how the fabric was newer than what she was used to, Midna was not quite able to quell the suspicion that her difficulties were connected to the same reason as for why she was crying.

But, nevertheless, she continued, using the pain that shot through her arm as she underestimated her strength, making her elbow connect with the bedpost behind her, to mask what was hidden underneath. It was easier that way. She had not cried when her kingdom had been lost to Zant, and although Midna could not quite fight the feeling that, somehow, Zelda had grown to become more important to her than any of that, it still felt like she would have betrayed everyone around her if she wept for Zelda when she had been able to remain strong back then.

So she did not cry. Each time she felt herself slowing down even a little, her thoughts creeping back to the room she had shut the door to the moment the maid had taken her away from Zelda, Midna would redirect her attention to the task in front of her, forcing herself to confront it with the same stubborn sense of anger as she had done when faced with the injustice that having found herself with no other choice than to ask for the help of strangers had felt like at first. With how many times Zelda’s smile would inevitably manifest in front of her eyes, making Midna’s heart skip a beat every time as she, for a moment, found herself moved back to a time where everything that had been between them had been Midna’s pride and Zelda’s refusal to be the one to confront the barrier that Midna had allowed the Mirror of Twilight and their respective roles to be, before she would blink and remember that she did not live in that world any longer, she finished her work long before the moon had risen to the top of the sky.

Her legs and hands ached as she stood up, but Midna ignored the pain to instead move over to the window. As she took in the view, saw how the courtyard, despite the lack of light, was still almost as busy as it had been during the day, the thought that, perhaps, only perhaps, the worlds were not so different, that perhaps Zelda had been right those times she had tried to convince Midna that they did not have to confine themselves to the fleeting moment of twilight struck her. But the fact that Midna was standing here, with a makeshift rope in her hand and willing to risk the fabric being unable to carry her, leaving her with nothing between herself and a fall to the ground, the prospect of dying here for some reason seeming less daunting than having to attend Zelda’s funeral, was enough to prove her wrong.

It was almost strange. Once—and it felt like it was not that long ago, although Midna supposed that it was exactly that to the rest of the inhabitants of the castle—Midna would have been overjoyed to have evidence she could use during one of the discussions that had so often been what had given her an excuse to stay close to Zelda for just a moment longer back then. But now, she would have traded all of that, would have accepted having Zelda prove her wrong all the time, to just be able to have some of that back. How cruel that she would only realise that now, now when she knew that she could not change what had happened and what would continue to happen if Midna stayed here and allowed herself to grow closer to those she knew would die long before her. At least Link had left, and although Midna was aware that he would either be dead or as old as Zelda had been by now, it was enough to give her the option of still picturing him as the naïve boy she had first met. But Zelda… Midna shook her head, forcing the thoughts to scatter. She would not think about her. Not anymore.

If anyone saw the rope be thrown out of the window, if one of the servants noticed how Midna paused for a moment to tie the other end around the bedpost before tugging on it to see if it would be able to support her, at least no one reacted. Right then, Midna could not have been more grateful for the fact that she was not disturbed, not when she could easily imagine the reaction she would have been met by if a maid were to come in now to see Midna there, climbing up to stand on the windowsill with the end of the robe tied around her waist.

The wind caught her hair as she leant out of the window, careful to not fall backwards or to loosen her grip around the fabric even a little, and for a second, Midna could almost fool herself into thinking that she was back in the castle, facing Ganondorf alone. Then, she began her descent, and little by little, she left the light and the warmth of the room behind to instead allow herself to fall back into the shadows that crept up alongside the walls of the castle.

It was amazing, really, how little a coachman would ask about her reasons for wanting to go to the Arbiter’s Grounds immediately when faced with the prospect of being rewarded for his silence, but by the time Midna could see the familiar structure that surrounded her path home, she was too exhausted to care about how she would once have been disappointed in how little it took for the man to simply nod at her and accept her request not to ask why her eyes were red or why she had just escaped the castle. None of it mattered anymore; Midna no longer had anyone left to care for within the castle. If other people could use the same tactic as her to avoid being caught within the castle, she did not have to worry about it.

Still, as she turned around to look at the world she was leaving behind for good one last time, Midna could not deny that, although strange to her, she had come to regard Hyrule as her home just as much as the Palace of Twilight was.

Maybe she was making a mistake. Maybe the Mirror of Twilight would refuse to bring her home, leaving her stuck between the two worlds. There were so many things that could bring an end to her escape, and yet, Midna could not bring herself to care about any of them. She had barely even realised that they existed, before time had made sure that it was too late for her to change anything.

By the time dawn arrived and one of the maids went back to the room to open the door, already dreading having to inform the ruler of the Twilight Realm that, given how Hyrule had just lost its beloved queen, it did not feel proper to entertain guests any longer, she was long gone. The only signs that there had ever been any contact between the two realms at all were the rope that fluttered in the wind, the remnants of a broken mirror within the Arbiter’s Grounds, and the memories that were left inside the minds of those who had experienced the events that had followed the interactions between the two kingdoms.

The rope was pulled back into the room, and, when the sheets were deemed too ruined to be mended, the fabric was given to one of the maids, the largest scraps of it ending up in her wedding dress. The Mirror of Twilight, although important, was soon abandoned. Without it being useful to the kingdom anymore, it was covered by sand within a couple of centuries. With Zelda being carried through the city only a few days later, flowers lining the streets as she was welcomed home by her ancestors, it was only a matter of time before the memories of the other realm and the relationships that had been formed in the wake of the tumultuous meeting of the two worlds would disappear as well, fading into the twilight that preceded the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!


End file.
